


Hardcore Sandor

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hardcore Henry, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, F/M, Movie - Hardcore Henry, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:21:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Sandor is resurrected from death with no memory, and he must save his wife from a telekinetic warlord with a plan to bio-engineer soldiers.AKA the Hardcore Henry mashup no one asked for, with a SanSan spin.





	1. Boot Up

**Author's Note:**

> This story (more or less) follows the plot of Hardcore Henry. If you know the ending, please refrain from giving away spoilers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...updates are going to be sporadic on this one as well. I'm trying out an experiment, tbh.

The bullies were at it again. The three boys had his toy knight and were tossing it around to each other. The big one, a mean son of a whore, smiled cruelly before smashing the knight into the wall and then punching him. He fell to the floor with a cry. The bullies ran off, laughing, as an older man walked up. He knelt in front of him, looking slightly disappointed. “You. Little. Pussy.”

**********

The first thing he saw was red. A woman stood over him, concern etched over her pretty face though she was looking down. Why was she looking… Why was his body so far below him? He was fairly certain that was his. The left arm was cut off near just below the elbow, and his left leg right below the knee. He couldn't remember if he had always been like that. He couldn't remember anything before the moment he saw this beautiful woman. As his consciousness cleared, she smiled. “His vitals are returning to normal!” she called out to someone he couldn't see. “Red is the color we'll need to keep him in.”

“Can't believe that worked. Most of the other subjects preferred blue or green.”

“Most of the other subjects failed miserably, so _maybe_ it's a good thing,” the woman shot back. “Ugh, men.”  She turned back to him, smiling. “Thank goodness you’re nothing like them, Sandor.”

**********

He saw the woman on multiple occasions. Usually she was checking monitors or writing something down, humming or singing as she did so. _Little bird._ Sometimes she talked to him. Not a lot. Just asking how he was feeling or if he thought the Winterfell Direwolves would win the big game. There were a lot of big games, apparently. He couldn't respond, he couldn't move, but she didn't seem to expect a response anyway.

A few times she came in sporting bruises on her pretty cheek. She still smiled at him and didn't mention them.

Another woman was there today. A beautiful woman, light brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and a white lab coat over her sundress. She was messing with his eyes, pulling them down and inserting them into his skull. Now it made sense on why he could see his body like that, and why the little bird never looked into his eyes. This woman used a power drill to screw his eyes into place, the red tint fading to normal light. then unplugged the wires and drained the liquid his body had been floating in. Once the liquid was gone, she took down the clear barricades that had held the liquid in and held his hand. “Hello, Sandor.” Sandor? The little bird had said that, too. Was that his name? “Oh, you can't speak, but that's normal. Well, not _normal_ normal, but normal for this situation. It's temporary, I assure you. Okay?”

He nodded hesitantly.

“Do you remember how you got here?”

He shook his head. She sighed.

“That's okay. That's normal as well. Let's start the procedure, shall we? Scan?” A whirring stared above his head and he looked up to see a spider like machine descend upon him. He raised his hand to stop it, but it stopped on its own.

 **_Scanning… Scan complete. Video link confirmed._ ** The machine rose back up.

The woman giggled. “No worries. This next part might hurt, possibly a lot. But it is necessary. I will be as quick about it as I can.” She was carrying boxes around. He remembered the little bird had been working on something she had put in those boxes. The woman withdrew a mechanical arm and attached it to his elbow stub. He was fascinated as the machine descended again, but instead of scanning, welded the mechanical arm to him. It did hurt, but only a little. It felt odd to move the mechanics with his thoughts, the same way he did it with his normal arm. Was it normal? His right arm felt different, though he supposed he didn't really have a frame of reference since he couldn't remember anything before the suspension in liquid.

The woman was walking around the completely white room and brought an apple that she placed in his mechanical hand. “Squeeze this,” she said. His arm whirred as he did. “Harder.” The apple exploded in his hand, startling the woman and causing her to laugh. “Very good. Integument.” The overhead machine descended a third time. She pushed a few buttons on the monitor attached to it. “Don't move,” she ordered, smiling as she walked to the end of the table he was on. “You were never much a fan of my work, Sandor, but maybe this will change your mind.” He watched her pick a leg up out of a large box. He remembered that box. The little bird had had a lot of trouble with it, and someone had yelled at her to hurry up. He had wished he could carry it for her. She seemed like a nice person, not like those cunts in the other room that he could only hear. His attention was drawn back to the woman when he heard a _click_ and then saw the leg turning as it was screwed into place. He tested it, wiggling his toes once he heard the leg snap into place.

**_Connection of left leg complete. Scanning for irregularities._ **

**_Scan complete. No irregularities found._ **

The woman knelt next to the machine working on his arm. He hadn't been paying attention to it, but now he saw that it was putting skin over the mechanical arm. She was watching it, entranced by the glowing light blue lasers. “You don't remember me, do you?” she asked quietly. A heartbeat or two and she looked up at him through her lashes. He shook his head. “My name is Margaery. We were… Well, we still are… husband and wife.” The machine finished putting the skin on the arm, beeped twice, then moved away.

**_Connection of left arm complete. Scanning for irregularities._ **

**_Scan complete. Signal is strong. No irregularities found._ **

She helped him stand and gave him some clothes to put on. The white shirt felt odd on his skin, and the equally white pants were too tight on his hips and thighs. Once he was clothed, she handed him a ring to put in his left hand. She smiled as he did it, watching the ring slid down, noticing that his knuckles weren't covered by the pseudoskin, and the metal joints were showing through. “I love you, Sandor.” She looked up at him. He felt nothing as she gazed upon him. Shouldn't he feel something? A beautiful woman just told him she loved him. “I can't wait to hear you say it back. Come, follow me.” She lead him into the next room.

He stopped when he saw the other people. Two were listening to incredibly loud music and the third… _Little bird…_ She was standing apart from the two men, not paying attention to what anyone else was doing as she worked on something on the tablet she was holding. She looked sad, so fragile. And she was far more beautiful than he had originally thought. He looked away as his heart skipped a beat. He had a wife, even if he didn't remember her. She deserved his loyalty, despite circumstances.

“Guys, knock it off!” Margaery yelled over the music. The two men turned it down, noticing him.

“Sandor! Good to see you up,” the first man said. His blond hair and green eyes annoyed Sandor for some reason.

“He doesn't remember anything from before,” Margaery told them.

“Oh, man, sorry. Ah, I'm Lanny. Lancel, actually, but everyone calls me Lanny. This is my partner in crime, Pate.” The other young man waved at him. “Well, are you ready to get your voice back?”

He tried to speak, but it only came out as a croaked, “Yes.”

“Good. Sansa, get the extra voice module. We'll need it as a backup. Oh, the quiet one over there is Sansa,” Lanny pointed to the little bird. She gave him a small smile before disappearing into the lab. “Alright, while she's getting that, what kind of voice would you like? We have classic…” Sandor heard the famous “thank you” of Elvis Presley come over the speakers. “We have _soul.”_ Louis Armstrong was next. “And of course, the King of Pop.” The high pitched voice of Michael Jackson crooned a love song over the speakers.

“Guys, knock it off. I… _We_ went through a lot of trouble to get his original voice. And it sounds way better than your cheap knockoff impersonations,” the little bird said, poking her head out of the lab room.

Lancel glared at her. “Spoilsport. Did you find the voice module?”

Sansa blushed. “Um, almost.” She ducked back into the room.

Lancel sighed. “Flighty girl,” he muttered. “Anyway, Sandor--”

An alarm started screeching and the lights pulsed red. **_Intruder alert. Breach on level four. Intruder alert. Breach on level seven. Intruder alert. Breach on level two._ **

“Uh...is this a drill?” Pate asked. Margaery ran to a nearby computer.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Quick! Bolt the door!”

Lancel ran to the door to secure it, but it was blown off the hinges, knocking into Lancel and crushing him against the wall in a bloody paste. Several men in full tactical gear stormed the room, pointing their automatic rifles at them. <”On your knees!”> one yelled at Margaery in another language. Another yelled at Sandor to put his hands up. He didn't know what language they were speaking, but he understood it as easily as he understood the lab people.

A woman entered, but this one was dressed in a stylish suit, long blonde locks curling delicately around her flawless face. She was laughing quietly to herself. “Oh, Margaery, Margaery. You started the party and didn't invite me?” She took Margaery's held up hand and pulled her to her feet. “And after everything I've done for you? Shame, Margaery, _shame_.” The woman turned to Sandor, as if just noticing him. “Ooooohhhh, is this _him?”_ She sauntered up to Sandor. “Hello, Sandor. My name is Cersei. How do you like the new you?”

Sandor looked over at Margaery, then back to Cersei.

“What's wrong with him?” She looked over at Pate and the machine he was standing next to. “Oh, did I interrupt his voice installation?” She giggled. “How awkward! Well, suffice it to say, you look great. Ah, you, what's your name?”

“P-Pate.”

“Pate, you were here when Sandor was brought in, yes?” He nodded. “Would you please describe to him his condition so that he can appreciate how _good_ he looks now?” She circled Sandor, gliding her hand up his arms and across his back before walking back to Margaery.

“Uh, y-yes, Miss Cersei. He had his arm shot off, just below his elbow. His leg as well, shot clean-- Well, not so clean, but blasted off. His head--”

“Yes, do tell of that _particular_ injury. It was rather gruesome, after all.” Cersei rested her chin on Margaery's shoulder, her hands traveling up Margaery's side. “I want to hear all about it, considering how _close_ Margie and I have become during this little experiment of hers.” Cersei shoved her hand to Margaery's crotch and breathed deeply at her neck. To her credit, Margaery suppressed a shudder. Cersei looked relatively harmless, but the vibe off of her chilled Sandor to the bone.

“Well, his skull was crushed in from the front on his cheek and part of the side, down his neck a bit, completely shredded--”

“That's enough, thank you, Pate.” Cersei extended her arm and walked towards Pate. The man levitated three feet into the air. Cersei pulled out a knife and stabbed him in three vital areas of his body, before letting him fall dead to the ground. She turned to Sandor, “Oh dear, I seem to be bleeding. All of this has been rather strenuous though.” She wiped the trickle of blood from her nose.

Margaery was at one of the consoles lining the wall. “Head to the lab,” she whispered, then cranked up the music to blast out of the speakers. He saw the concussive sound knock over the armed men and Cersei as he ran after Margaery. The little bird was still in there, holding a grate on the floor open.

“Hurry,” she told them, “the door won't hold for long.”

“Can you hold them off? Buy us a few minutes?”

Sansa blinked and stole a glance at Sandor before saying, “Yes, I can do that. Cersei doesn't like me anyway. I'm sure I can distract her.”

“Thank you, sweet Sansa,” Margaery said, hugging the little bird and disappearing into the hidden trap door.

“Be careful, Sandor,” the little bird whispered. “This is likely the last time I will see you, so please, stay alive. I would hate to have my favorite patient join me too soon in the afterlife.” She said it with such a sad smile, that Sandor was grabbing her, pulling her into the dark abyss. He pulled the trapdoor closed after them, and indicated to her with a finger to the lips to stay quiet. She nodded.

He started to crawl through the small, narrow space. He barely fit, but he followed Margaery. He wanted to turn around to check on the little bird, but there was just not enough room for it. They had to pause as some of Cersei's men passed overhead, their boots hitting the grates like thunder, but then they were on the move again. Margaery moved past several intersections in the tunnel, which Sandor assumed was a ventilation system of some sort. She stopped next to one, “Sandor, open it.”

There was just enough room for him to punch it open. Margaery slipped past him, and ran across the freezing room it opened into. He followed her, the little bird right behind him. They were running past shelves upon shelves of frozen bodies. “Cersei wants to use my research to reanimate these men, create her own personal army of cyborgs. We can't let her get you.”

She flung open the door on the other end and they were in a hallway. Shadows on the far wall had them running in the opposite direction. He saw an exit sign and ran to the door. He pushed it open at full speed, just as he heard Margaery call out, “Sandor, no!”

He held on to the door handle as it opened and was flung out into open air. The clouds were far below him, and blue sky above him. He let go of the handle and grabbed onto the edge of the floor before he fell through the air. Grunting as he pulled himself back inside with some help from Margaery, he could see the little bird pressing some buttons on a door panel out of the corner of his eye. She motioned for him to follow and then disappeared into the room.

“This way, Sandor,” Margaery said, helping him to his feet. She lead him to the door the little bird had just gone through. Inside were two pods and an unconscious old man slumped against the wall. “Oh, dear, Dr. Walder? I wonder what happened to him,” she said in a worried tone. “At least there are two pods, push this button to engage. Got it?” He nodded and pushed her gently into the pod. She pushed the button and it closed. “I'll see you on the ground, Sandor,” she said before the pod dropped into the open sky.

He turned and closed the door to find the little bird huddling behind it. He helped her to her feet. “You should go. They’ll be here any second. Plus, Margaery isn't used to being kept waiting. Especially by her husband.” Her smile was so sad still, he raised his hand to stroke her cheek. “I'll be fine. I know a good place to hide. You’re the one Cersei wants. She _cannot_ be allowed to find you.”

She pushed him to the escape pod. “Pull this lever once you see the altitude get to a thousand feet. It’ll--” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the pod, punching the release button. She held onto him tightly as they fell, not looking down as they plummeted among the clouds. “I’m sorry...I’m scared of heights,” she whispered. “As soon as you see the altitude of two thousand...make that two thousand, five hundred, pull the chute.” She went quiet and he looked up at the altimeter, his hand poised on the lever. They cleared the clouds, and he could see a city rushing up to meet them. He pulled the chute just as it hit the designated number. The pod slowed, but even Sandor could tell it wasn’t enough. He held the little bird as they crashed into the pavement of the highway.


	2. Boxes and Beric

Sandor woke to consciousness with a start. The little bird was over him, fretting about something. He grasped her hand in his. “Oh, thank goodness. You were only ever tested for impacts of cars hitting you, not for slamming into the ground at only the gods know how fast.” She looked up at something in the distance, rising to her feet. He followed suit. “You have to hurry. Margaery's pod landed a little ways away. Cersei's mercenaries will be here soon. You have to protect Margaery from Cersei. If she gets either of you, her army will rise and then we are all very royally screwed.”

He tugged on her hand. “No, I can't go with you. You've done so much for me already. Go. Protect Margaery. I'll be fine, I promise.” She gave him a smile, pushed him away and then ran off in the opposite direction. He watched her for a moment, then turned to find his wife.

He found Margaery among the pod wreckage. Hers hadn't faired any better than Sandor's, it seemed. She looked ethereal, almost like a princess from a story. Lifting her up carefully, he started walking away. Three black vans were speeding towards his direction and Margaery woke in time to see them. “Sandor! Put me down!” She struggled in his arms until she was back on her feet. “Those are Cersei's mercenaries! They can't take either of us. You have to fight them, Sandor. When I give the word, you _must_ engage them. Do you understand?” He didn't, but he nodded. Orders felt comfortable. He turned back around to find a fist coming straight at his face. “Engage!” He was knocked back a few steps as the fist connected with his nose. “Sandor! _Engage!”_

He dodged the next punch, countered with his own fist to the man’s neck, but another kicked him in the stomach.

“Sandor! You are capable of more than they realize! Fight back!”

He tried. He threw a punch that landed, but then he was blindsided, pain exploding on his left side. He stumbled away. <”Cersei, this one is a pathetic piece of shit, too,”> he heard.<”You’d think he’d have been a better candidate, considering where he comes from.”> That strange language again. How did he know it?” He looked over at the speaker, a tough looking man with a wide nose and a sneer, taller than him, towering over everyone. Sandor wanted to punch his face off for some reason. He was speaking into a walkie-talkie. Sandor lunged at him, but was caught by two of the other men.

“Sandor! No! Fight back!”

Wide Nose picked him up by the front of his shirt. <”Boyfriend not the killer you hoped for, eh?”> Wide Nose punched him, sending him careening into an oncoming car. The impact spun him around, knocking him down. Wide Nose picked him up again and spit in his face.

“No! Stop it!” Margaery cried. Wide Nose laughed and pushed Sandor back. He took a small black object from his pocket.

<”Well, _Margaery._ Don’t you want to find out what this fucker,” > he held up the black little box, <”will do to that fucker!”> He laughed as Margaery screamed _No! No! Sandor! SANDOR!_ Two little bits shot out and hit Sandor in the chest. His body convulsed as electricity shot through him. He stumbled backward, falling head first over the highway railing to the parking lot underneath, landing on a car. Quickly, he got out of the way as a lightpole teetered and then fell on the spot he had just vacated. His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Voices were shouting, getting closer.

“Sandor?” He turned to see the little bird hiding behind a car. She motioned him over and he went to her. “What  are you doing down here? Where’s Margaery?” He pointed upwards to the freeway above them. “Oh no… Did Cersei’s men get her?” He nodded. “This is bad… We have to rescue her! Oh, but your--” A gunshot interrupted her. A body fell a few feet away from them, the man’s eyes wide in surprise. He was wearing a uniform, but he didn’t look like a cop. Security guard possibly. “Follow me,” she whispered. She crept along the ground, checking before she went. They could hear heavy footsteps around them, men calling out in that strange language as they searched for Sandor.

<”Kill anyone you see. We’ll find that whoreson for Cersei!”>

“In there,” the little bird said, keeping her voice low. “We can hide in that freight box.” They scrambled between the cars, avoiding being seen. The latch to the box door was stuck. “Sandor, as carefully and quietly as possible, pull this open.”

Tentatively, he grasped the latch and pulled. It screeched like a banshee out of hell, and they were soon inside.

“Maybe they didn’t hear?” she said, her voice full of hope. The sound of approaching footsteps said otherwise. There was a car in the freight box, and Sandor pushed the little bird behind it, furthest away from the incoming soldiers. Grabbing the windshield wiper and tearing it off, he waited for the inevitable entrance of the man in the ski mask. He grabbed the man’s gun by the barrel and stabbed him in the neck with the jagged edged of the metal wiper. The man was tougher than he looked and managed to fire off his gun, alerting his companions.

Sandor dove to the side as the hail of bullets bombarded the freight box, still holding the now dead man’s rifle by the barrel. He looked around quickly, and noticed through the open driver’s door that the car keys were in the ignition. He turned the key and the engine roared to life, some sort of opera music playing over the audio system. By jamming the tire iron he found on the seat of the car against the accelerator and throwing the car into drive, he took out five more of the soldiers as the vehicle burst out of the freight car. He grabbed the little bird by the hand, keeping her safely behind him as he shot at the remaining men. The little bird screamed as a car came barrelling at them, and Sandor shoved her out of its path, taking the brunt of the impact. The driver was yelling at him, raising a gun to shoot him, when another car T-boned it, sending Sandor rolling to the pavement. The last three soldiers were advancing on him, but he had dropped the rifle and couldn’t defend himself, let alone the little bird. He put his hands up in surrender, hoping to keep them from hurting her, when their brains exploded out the back of their heads and they slumped to the pavement. A fourth man entered his field of vision, holding a pistol up towards the dead men, then turned to train it on Sandor.

The man, dressed in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, walked towards him, gun still raised, until he was only five feet from him. “You’re a rabbit in the crosshairs, aren’t you, mate?” the man asked, dropping the gun to his side. “It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you. Is your speech modulator installed?”

Sandor shook his head.

“Well, bollocks,” the man said. “At least you’re not deaf, I suppose. It’s alright, you can put your hands down now.” He started to walk away, back to the truck that had rammed the car earlier. “Three years I’ve been waiting and now I’m stuck with Charlie Chaplin!” He looked over at Sandor once he got to the driver’s door of the car. “Well, come on! I haven’t got all day!”

Sandor looked over to the little bird, who was passed out on the pavement. He quickly picked her up and followed the strange man.

**********

The rain was falling steadily as the man drove them down the uncrowded streets. “Ok, let’s have a look at you,” the man said. “Open the glovebox and pull out the machine in there. You’ll have to untangle the wires and-- Is that a wedding ring?”

Sandor looked down at his hand. He had completely forgotten about it, about Margaery. That was probably not a good thing.

“Are you married??” the man asked in surprise. Sandor nodded. “How’s that going?”

He gave the man an "I don't know " gesture. He knew it wasn’t going well, but he didn’t know this man and felt bad about forgetting Margaery in the first place.

“Shocker. Is it her?” he asked, gesturing with his head to the little bird in the back seat. Sandor shook his head violently. It was strange enough to have a beautiful wife he felt nothing for, it was a completely different thing to be protecting a woman he _should_ feel nothing for and have to deal with the looks the man was throwing him. “Oh. You sure? You seem quite close.”

Sandor shook his head again, calmer than before, and held up the wires he had untangled.

“Right, ok, open up your shirt, and… no, all the way.” Sandor looked down to see metal holes in his chest. It was rather hairy, as was his arm, which looked strange next to the robotic arm that was clean shaven. “I need you to plug the jacks in yourself. Red one in the top hole, green one in the bottom hole. Got it?”

Sandor did as he was told. The jacks tingled as he snapped them into place. The man looked at the monitor attached to the mess of wires.

“Ok, so your name is Sandor, and… well, the good news is you’re going to live a while. So long as your battery is charged. The bad news is that you need a recharge. Desperately. You only have about half an hour to live. Maybe. Might be more like twenty minutes. Unless you’re very, very lucky. Which you are, because Uncle Beric is here to help. I’ll take you to my lab and fix you right-- Oh, crap. We’ve got the fuzz on our tail.” Sandor could see the red and blue lights flashing behind them. The car in question sped up alongside them, and the police inside waved at Beric to pull over. “Put the machine away and-- Ok, no time to change, just cover up the blood with this,” he said, handing Sandor a duffel bag. “There’s a change of clothes in there. For later, not now. I just said there’s not time.” Sandor had been reaching into the bag.

The car came to a stop and Beric put it into park.

“Ok, let me take care of this. <Good plate, gentle hive. What problem be seems?>” he asked the officer who had approached his window.

<”License and registration,”> he said.

<”Skip to fine, if you mother allow?”> Beric asked, holding out some money. The officer grinned and took the money. Beric turned to Sandor. “See? No problems--”

The officer raised his gun towards Sandor, and Beric managed to shove it away so that the shots missed wildly. He hit the accelerator, careening them back into the street. Shots followed them, breaking the windows of the vehicle. The little bird woke up, then immediately ducked her head down.

“Cersei pays off half of the cops in the city. Must have already alerted them. We need to lose them, and then I can get you back to my lab, fix you up--”

_BLAM!_

Beric slumped over the steering wheel, blood spattered across the inside of the windshield, except for the hole the bullet had made. The car swerved, crashing into a tree on the side of the road.


	3. Buses, Burning and Bolting

Sandor woke to someone shaking him. “Sandor! Wake up! Please wake up!”

His eyes focused and he turned his head to see the frantic eyes of the little bird.

“Oh, thank goodness. You must have been knocked temporarily offline,” she said with relief. A glance behind them, and then she said, “We have to go. People are starting to gather, and I think those men are coming back…”

They scrambled out of the vehicle, Sandor clutching the bag of clothing Beric had given him. Some of the people in the crowd were asking if they were alright in that other language, and the little bird was assuring them that, yes, they were. He really wished he could ask her what the language was and how he knew it.

Shots rang out, and the crowd either fell to the ground or ran away. Sandor grabbed the little bird, covering her with his body to protect her from the spray as they ran.

“Sandor, over there! The substation! Quick!”

He headed down the steps going underground, the little bird close behind him. They slowed when they saw the cops eyeing them, but kept moving through the sparse crowd. Sandor tried to enter one of the shops in the substation, but a woman blocked his entrance, asking him if he wanted to buy a nice gift for his girlfriend. He backed away and went to the next open door. The little bird shut it behind them, and a few seconds later, the cops working for Cersei ran past.

<”Erm...may I help you?”> the shopkeeper asked.

<”We just need a moment,”> the little bird said, giving the young woman a smile. <”Please turn around, my companion needs to change.”>

Sandor began stripping as both the little bird and the woman faced the other direction. Once he had changed, he tapped the little bird on the shoulder and motioned for them to leave. The little bird shoved some cash at the woman, and took a hat for each of them. <”Thank you, please come again,”> the shopkeeper said cheerfully.

Before they could exit, one of the cops searching for them appeared at the wire mesh door. <”Here! I found him!”>

Sandor kicked the door open, sending the man flying across the narrow hallway. Two more were running towards him, guns drawn. Closing the door behind him, Sandor went after the chunkier of the two men, sending him into his partner. A shot rang out, and the few people in the hallway scattered. The cop on the floor was aiming to take another shot, but Sandor was on him, wrestling the gun away from him. A hard elbow to the man’s face, causing him to hit his head against the concrete wall, and he was out cold. More shots, and Sandor turned the acquired gun on the other two cops, shooting them in the head.

The little bird was out of her cage and pulling on his arm. “We have to go, now!” They were running down the hallway, nearly running into another gaggle of cops, but Sandor did a sharp U-turn and they went up the next flight of stairs. The cops were right behind them, so he picked up the little bird and jumped up to the handrail, then launched himself over the top of the guard wall that surrounded the descending entrance. There was a bus nearby, and Sandor reached it in only five steps. The little bird paid their fare and they made their way to the back of the bus. He stashed the gun he had taken from the cops in his pocket as discreetly as possible, not wanting to alarm any of his fellow passengers.

“Sandor,” she said, looking up at him with her big blue eyes. “I… I don’t know what to do. That man in the car… I heard some of what he said, that he can help you, but now he’s…” Her voice trailed off. “I didn’t know, Sandor. I swear I didn’t know that the charge pump was a short term one. I’m sure Margaery was planning on changing it out for a better one. You’re her...her husband,” she said. She looked away for a moment. “I didn’t know… What a coincidence it was...to learn that when…”

She was wiping at her eyes. _She’s crying. Why is she crying?_

<“Too hot… The water is sweet with raisins.”> A homeless man was walking down the aisle towards them. Sandor could smell him from across the bus. <“I run this shit. All of it…”> The man sat across from them, continuing to mumble to himself. He offered Sandor his bottle of some clear alcohol, but he turned it down. The people on the other side of the aisle got up and walked away. The man leaned in. <“Salty turtles make good soup,”> he slurred, looking around the bus. “Sandor, I’m going to have to hurt you a bit.”

He grabbed Sandor’s wrist and attempted to jab some pliers into him, but he shoved him away, punching him.

“Hey!” The man slapped Sandor hard. “Easy now, it’s me, Beric.” He leaned in again, and Sandor recognized him this time. He looked...different. And he smelled so bad. He was wearing layers of ratty clothing, a muddy skull cap, dirty from spending days on the streets. His beard, real as far as Sandor could tell, was months old. Previously, he had been clean shaven, smartly dressed. It was like he was a completely different person.

“Get away from him!” the little bird hissed, drawing her arm in front of Sandor, as if to protect him. Sandor placed his hand on her shoulder. “Sandor?”

“It’s alright, miss. I’m a friend. I’m here to help Sandor,” Beric said. He gestured to himself. “This...this is just a disguise. Now, we only have a few moments before they’re on to you again.” He took hold of Sandor’s wrist again. “This is going to hurt, but trust me, it’s necessary.” He jammed the pliers in, wiggling them around a bit. Blood, or possibly motor oil, spurted from the wound. It hurt like a bitch as Beric pulled out some sort of device. “See? There we go. They’ve been tracking you with this.”

He held up a what looked like a small box with wires sticking out of it. The little bird gasped. “That’s… That’s my design! But it wasn’t… It’s a prototype for pet collars!”

“Well, it’s going byebye,” Beric said, throwing it on the bus floor and stomping on it. “Now, as to getting you fixed up… Your mechanical parts are going to start shutting down soon. You need to get a new charge pump in there or else it’s lights out for you, my friend. Now, there’s a man that works for Cersei, Harrold Hardyng. He’s in charge of her realty properties/business acquisitions/finances/drugs/a lot of other stuff. This helpful dot on the screen,” he said, handing Sandor a smartphone, “is where he’s holed up. There's some notes on the building as well. Read them. You need to break in there... kill him... rip open his chest... take his beating heart out…” Beric held his hand up, twitching his fingers as if holding a pumping heart. _“And eat it!”_

Sandor looked at him incredulously and the little bird’s grip on his arm tightened. There was no way that was true.

“I’m kidding!” Beric said with a laugh. Sandor threw his hands up in frustration. “Heh, eat his heart… No, _behind_ his heart is a canister, tube looking thing, with a long wire attached to it. _That’s_ the charge pump. It’s Harrold we’re talking about, so you know it’s a good one. Cersei doesn’t skimp on her favorite employees. You need to bring it back to me, I can install it for you. Unless you want your pretty friend to do it.”

“Oh, um, I’m more of a ‘fix the hardware’ scientist. Not so much the ‘integrate the hardware with flesh’ kind of scientist. I know the theory behind it all, but I was never allowed in the operating room, so I don’t really know the practicalities of the procedure Sandor was put under. I can fix nearly any of his mechanical parts though, but I think I should only be a helping hand when it comes to this.”

Beric raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh... I didn't realize... Well, the fixing is useful, but not in this particular situation, unfortunately. Take these, they’ll help you get to the pump in Hardyng’s chest.” He handed the pliers to Sandor. “Ok, I’ll call you with my location on this phone, so don’t lose it.” He glanced out the window. “That has got to be the strangest jacket I've ever seen.”

Sandor looked. A man in a shimmery silver suit was walking along the street, a long metal rod held in both his hands, and a large tank of some sort strapped to his back. He looked like something out of a sci-fi convention.

Leaning out the bus window, Beric shouted at the man, <”Hey! Where to buy metal shirt? My apple wants a wife.”>

The silver man turned towards them, pointing the metal rod at Beric and opened fire with the flamethrower, lighting not just Beric, but the bus and some of the people inside it, including the little bird. Beric was completely engulfed in the flames, but Sandor grabbed the little bird and kicked at the window opposite them, breaking it and getting her out in a flash, then stripping off the flaming clothing. He grabbed a water bottle from a nearby man and extinguished the remaining flames on her.

“S-Sa-n-dooooor,” she cried, clinging to him in fear.

He wished he could tell her sweet words of comfort, tell her that the flames hasn’t burnt her skin, he had been too quick for it, but only a harsh and raspy, “You’re alright, little bird,” came out of his mouth as he patted her head. She looked up at him, grateful.

The doors of the bus burst open and Beric came out, flailing about as he continued to be on fire. “I’ll be in touch, Sandor!” he yelled before falling down dead.

Sandor moved to try and smother the flames, but the silver suited man stepped out from around the bus, his flamethrower now aimed at Sandor and the little bird. Sandor tried to shoot him with the gun, but he wasn’t quick enough. He thought for sure he would be roasted alive, but he was knocked down to the ground by the little bird. They both scrambled out of the flamethrower’s reach, getting to their feet and running as fast as they could. The little bird pushed him towards a park nearby, slowing their pace as they crossed into it.

No one was following them as they entered the park, walking calmly along the sidewalk that ran parallel to the river. “We’ll have to get you another jacket or something,” the little bird murmured. Sandor looked down to see his fresh hoodie was already covered in blood and soot. She peeled it off of him and threw it in a nearby trash can, then linked her arm around his. To many of the people they passed, they looked like a couple taking a stroll. Sandor felt pleased by this.

She took the phone Beric had given him and studied the map. “This isn’t far. On the other side of the park actually. But you can’t get inside just by walking in. From what I know of her, Cersei’s likely got this guy protected. Plus...you need more clothing. You may be more machine than man at this point, but you do still have biological parts that need protection from the elements.” She blushed as she said that, looking around the park. “Look, over there. Next to the river. Those men are bathing, which I’m not sure is actually legal, but they’ve left their clothing. I hate stealing, but you’ll need that jacket. Just...um...let’s just walk quickly by them, grab it, and then make a run for it.”

They did just that, but the men noticed Sandor pick up the clothing, and two others joined in the yelling, coming from the opposite direction. They pushed the little bird aside, but shoved Sandor, asking him what the hell he thought he was doing. He punched the closest one out of panic, and the second one fled. The two naked men behind them were larger and still approaching. The little bird grabbed his hand and they were off again.

Once they lost the men in the winding paths of the park, they found a secluded spot where Sandor could change into the stolen clothing.

“Oh, oh no,” she whispered, “You’re hurt.” She had him remove his shirt so she could inspect the wound on his side. He hadn’t even noticed. “It’s not too bad, mostly surface flesh. I think it’s from when we jumped out the bus window. Let’s see…” She took up one of the shirts they had taken and ripped it into a long strip of cloth. Another article of clothing was folded up and pressed against his side, then the long cloth strip was wound about it and his torso. “That should keep it for now, but we’ll need to speak to Beric about patching you up a bit more.”

Her hand was still on his exposed skin, and while he hadn’t noticed the wound, he was ever aware of the heat from the contact, of the electric tingle that passed between them. She looked up into his eyes. His gaze was drawn from her eyes, to her cute nose, to her lovely pink lips.

“Sandor… I--”

A rabbit jumped out of the bushes, startling both them and itself. It ran off quickly, and the little bird laughed, withdrawing her hand from him.

“You should finish changing,” she said softly.

The little bird kept her back turned, to preserve his modesty, he supposed. He wanted her to touch him again. _No. It’s not right. I have a wife. A wife that loves me enough to bring me back from the dead._ He looked down at the gold band on his left middle finger. A wife. A wife he didn’t remember, that he felt no connection to, that--

“I didn’t know you were married until the accident,” she said suddenly. She was still facing away from him. “I saw you in the halls often, though we spoke little. Sometimes I brought you snacks, as a way to say thank you. You were so fearsome, but you looked out for me, made sure the other guards stayed away from me. They were Cersei’s men...well, you were too, but you were different from them. You were there to keep order, while they seemed to enjoy creating havoc among the female staff. Margaery put up with them. I even thought she was involved with one of them, but…”

She took a deep breath, her hands were linked together behind her back. Her clothing was nearly as beat up as Sandor’s had been when he had fallen from the road high above the ground. She had escaped the fire’s wrath, but there were cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs.

“I was beside myself with fear when I heard you had been involved in the accident. It was in a factory of Cersei’s, somewhere in the city. I don’t know what you had been doing there, but you were dead when they brought your body back to the skylab. Margaery set us to work, saving what we could of you, telling us we had to save her husband. Lanny and Pate were the ones that assisted Margaery in the reconstructive surgeries. They even fixed your scars… Oh, you probably don’t remember, but you were in a fire when you were younger, and half your face was burned. Since they were rebuilding you anyway, Margaery said to not give you those scars.” She gave a joyless laugh. “Is it weird? I find myself missing your scars. They were a part of you, and now… I mean, you look handsome… I mean, good, you look good, but… you looked _just_ as good with the scars, and… Listen to me, going on and on about something as superficial as scars. You’re probably glad that they’re gone. Or you would be, if you could remember…”

Sandor had finished changing. He still had the extra jacket from the other man, and the little bird had none. Tapping her on the shoulder, he offered her the jacket, holding it up to help her into it.

She thanked him and continued with her story. “She had kept your marriage a secret, hoping that Cersei wouldn’t find out that you were her husband, and that you were there to protect her and her research.” Cersei had known, though it seemed the little bird was unaware of this fact. “We had had other test subjects, but you were the first to come back successfully. I was so relieved… Ah, but time is running out.” She placed her hand over his heart.

_Oh. Right. The charge pump. We need to get Harrold Hardyng's._

“We should get going,” she said, and lead him out of the park.


	4. Hard Jab to Hardyng

“Oh dear…” she said when they got to the building Harrold was supposed to be, a light drizzle falling down on them. He could see why she was nervous. The entrance was heavily guarded, the men all wearing _at least_ AR-15s. Most wore other guns on their persons. Pistols, shotguns, machine guns...

 _How do I know those guns?_ he thought, then remembered the little bird had said he was previously on the security detail at the skylab. It wasn’t far of a stretch that he would have retained knowledge he gained on the job, though why he could remember that stuff and how to use them, as well as how to fight, when he couldn’t remember any personal details was a mystery.

She was looking around, and tugged on his sleeve. “Over there. I think you can find a back way in. I’ll be your lookou--”

Sandor shook his head violently.

“Sandor?”

He pointed at her, then towards a cafe down the street. She looked adorably perplexed, so he did it again, more forcefully. “Go,” he rasped.

“What? But I can be helpful--”

He shook his head again. “Safe. Stay safe.”

“But--”

He placed his large hands on her delicate shoulders. She was tall enough that he didn’t have to bend down too much to look her in the eye. Margaery was so very tiny compared to him, he had to wonder about it. “Go. Stay safe, little bird.” It hurt to speak so much. Not his throat, his ears, and he could only imagine how she was able to stand the harsh, grating sounds coming from his mouth. She looked startled, but then nodded slowly.

She was troubled, that much was clear. “Will you come back for me?” she asked in a small voice. He nodded. “Once it’s safe, I assume?” He nodded again. “Alright. Please, be mindful of how much charge you have left. Hardyng should be on the top floor.” He nodded and pushed her gently in the direction of the cafe.

Once she was safely on her way, he turned to the building and started walking towards it. One of the guards on the perimeter spotted him, and motioned him over.

<“Hey, give me a light,”> he said with an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Sandor patted the stolen clothing, and found a lighter in one of the pockets. He made to light the guy’s cigarette when the man took it from his hands. <“I have arms. Get out of here.”> He walked off without giving the lighter back, but Sandor was more worried about getting through the defenses of the building. He walked along the sidewalk, noticing a small hole in the perimeter check, a corner of the building next to an alley with the neighboring building, that was a blind spot for less than a minute. There was no door and the only window was sure to open into the security’s quarters, but the floors above it…

He walked with purpose, past a group of guards on patrol. Once the blind spot appeared, he jumped up the corner of the wall, immediately jumping to the opposite wall and scaling it to the ledge on the second floor. He nearly lost his handhold, but managed to not fall and pulled himself up. He shimmied down the ledge, mindful of the people in the narrow alley below. Another leap across the alley way, swinging up to the third floor using a decorative iron bar, and he was at an open window. He ducked inside before the next patrol rounded the corner. A man and woman were on a couch, watching TV. The man looked dazed while the woman slept. He didn’t even seem to register that a stranger had just crawled into his apartment.

<“You want a puff?”> he asked, holding up a small, smoking white stick.

Sandor kept moving past the couple, but he heard the woman say, <“Yes.”>

Once he was out in the hallway, he moved carefully, keeping his gun handy. A sound startled him just as he found the elevator. A cat. A fucking cat. One of the security men chased it away and failed to notice Sandor in the corner. Pressing himself against the wall, he tried to blend in as he pressed the elevator button. According to the notes Beric had given him, Hardyng was on the top floor behind a solid steel door, and he would be the only person in that section, due to the extreme secrecy Cersei demanded for her various “enterprises.”

The doors of the elevator opened and three of Hardyng’s security team stared blankly at him from inside. All four men reached for their guns, but Sandor was quicker, taking out two of the men and grabbing the third by his nostrils. He stepped into the elevator and pointed at the button for the top floor with the gun before pointing it to the man’s head. The man, in considerable pain, fumbled for the button. The elevator played some soothing music as the doors closed and they went up. The chime of the elevator signified their arrival. The doors opened to reveal more of the security team. They drew their guns, but Sandor was able to use his hostage as a human shield and take out four of them as he was being shot at. Two more got sent over the railing as he threw the now dead hostage at them, and the last three chased him down the hall. He turned when they got close, putting bullets in two of them and snapping the neck of the last one. The door he was looking for, the one that would lead him to Hardyng, was right there in front of him, but required security access. Reinforced steel, he couldn't just strong arm his way past it unless he had a tank. He looked down at the dead men, and found an access card. Swiping it through the electronic panel, the lock disengaged and allowed him in.

Cautiously, Sandor stepped inside, just as another wave of security entered the hallway. He shot at the electrical panel on his side of the door, preventing them from being able to open it and follow him. Slowly, he turned and made his way down the dim hallway. Cardboard boxes lined the wall opposite the only other door in sight.

Sandor slowly made his way up to it, gun drawn, the hum of unseen machines covering the sound of his footsteps. The doorway took him to another short hall. There were boxes upon boxes of metal, stacked high on metal shelving, blinking LEDs and wires all around. _These are computer servers… I think… Hardyng uses them to boost computing power as well as storing data._ He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. _I’ll figure that out later,_ he thought as he walked towards the open door he saw on the other end. Sandor entered the next doorway to a small room. On the far wall was a series of monitors, four rows of five each. The cables from the monitors were bound together, hanging overhead across the ceiling and down the wall closest to him. In front of the monitors, was a desk and a chair, with a man sitting there, dressed in a bulletproof vest over a suit and tie, his back to Sandor.

 _Must be Hardyng,_ he thought. He crept up behind him, his gun trained on him. No reaction. Sandor took a step, then another, and another, until he was right behind Hardyng. Still no reaction. Reaching out, Sandor gently took hold of Hardyng’s shoulder and pulled him. Hardyng fell backward in the chair, a lifeless doll. _Huh...well, this will be easy._ He put the gun down and pulled out the pliers Beric had given him. Tearing open Hardyng’s shirt, he was about to plunge the pliers into the man’s chest when the monitors on the wall came to life.

 _“Sandor!”_ He turned to see Margaery’s face across the wall of monitors. _“Sandor! You have to hurry! Cersei’s started her plan. She’ll have her army in mere DAYS, if not sooner.”_ The monitors blinked out, back to black, and Margaery was gone.

 _Hurry. Have to hurry…_ He felt a twinge in his muscles. _The charge pump...get the charge pump!_

Turning back to Hardyng, he was startled to find the chair empty. He looked up, just in time to see Hardyng’s boot kick him in the face. Sandor went tumbling backwards. Hardyng was a half-step behind him, and Sandor nearly took a bullet to the face, his enhanced reflexes saving him, though just barely due to his low power. His gun had been kicked across the room in the scuffle, close to the door and with Hardyng in between. _Shit._

Hardyng rushed him with a mighty yell, punching him over and over again. Sandor tried to block, but his failing charge pump slowed him down. He scrambled as best he could, throwing the chair at Hardyng to unbalance him. The desk broke easily as Hardyng fell into it, knocking into the wall as well. One of the monitors became slightly dislodged.

Sandor’s eyes followed the monitors cables, across the ceiling, down the other wall...and right next to him. As Hardyng got up, Sandor yanked on the cables, his enhanced strength putting more force into it than a regular man and pulling all the monitors down on top of Hardyng. Hardyng was down, but not out, and he aimed his gun at Sandor.

Narrowly escaping the hail of bullets, Sandor escaped into the hall, the servers acting as protection. “Got a present for you, big guy,” Hardyng called out.

_The hell?_

Sandor heard a _clink, clink, clink._ He looked towards the door and saw a silver cylinder roll into the hall. _Fuuuuuuuccck!_ He jumped to his feet and ran through the next door, down the hall, looking for cover. His only option, the door preventing the security outside from getting to him. He slid behind the door, opening it so he could cover himself. Security guards flowed into the hallway, yelling, just in time to get hit with the concussive force of the grenade. They were pushed back out of the hall, and Sandor closed the door on them. He ran back into the room Hardyng had occupied, only to find it empty. A window was open, and he looked out and up to see Hardyng climbing the fire escape. He followed. The metal was slippery from the slight rain earlier.

Once he was on the roof, he ran across it. Hardyng was behind an A/C unit, strapping himself into some sort of contraption. _He’s… Is he about to…?_

“You’re half machine, half pussy,” Hardyng said before rappelling off the roof and down the side of the building. Sandor ran at him. The rappelling equipment must have been set up as an escape plan, as there were three sets lined up next to the one Hardyng had used. Sandor didn’t have time to set up the harness properly, Hardyng had too much of a lead on him. He jumped off the building, grabbing one of the rappel ropes and wrapping it around his mechanical hand and wrist as he fell. He wasn’t sure how well his legs would hold up on the landing, considering the velocity he was traveling at, but luckily, there was an industrial trash bin that had yet to be emptied next to the building. Sandor kicked off from the wall, just in time to aim himself into the bin. He landed with a crash, his head spinning a little. Hardyng looked at him in shock, his harness dropping out of his hands.

Hardyng bolted, tripping over the dropped harness, but getting up quickly and sprinting away. Sandor scrambled out of the dumpster, pushing aside some concerned citizens and running after Hardyng. He chased him down the street and up a staircase, then up an escalator. Hardyng knocked over several people. Sandor helped one woman who Hardyng shoved on the escalator, only to turn around to meet Hardyng’s boot to his face for the second time. Sandor tumbled down the remainder of the escalator, along with Hardyng, and grabbed the man’s jacket, but Hardyng was a slippery one and the suit jacket was shed easily. He ran again. Sandor grunted as he tossed aside the jacket and scrambled to his feet, propelling himself forward off the escalator. _You will not escape me!_ he swore to himself. _I need that charge pump!_

Hardyng ran alongside a glass covered walkway, then jumped into an open window. Sandor dove through it, tumbling across the floor, startling several people on the walkway. Hardyng scowled at Sandor from across the space and jumped through another window. Sandor followed him with his eyes as Hardyng climbed to the roof of the walkway. Looking around quickly, he jumped to some boxes and then to the top of a sunglasses kiosk. Just as Hardyng passed over him, he shot up through the glass. Hardyng was quick, and barely managed to dodge Sandor’s grasp. He kept running, jumping to the steel frame of the bridge next to the walkway. Cars were rushing below, ignorant of the chase happening above them. Sandor didn’t think as he made the jump as well, following Hardyng across the beams, weaving their way across, and then back in the same direction they originally came in. Hardyng jumped down, rolling into a tuck to minimize damage from the height. Sandor’s legs absorbed the impact of his jump, causing a slight crater in the sidewalk, but he kept after Hardyng, following him into a nearby plaza. His eyes widened when he saw the little bird sitting at the cafe he had told her to stay safe at. _Sonova…_ Her eyes went just as wide when she saw him and Hardyng heading in her general direction. _Does Hardyng know about her??_

He lunged at Hardyng before he could get near the little bird. Flipping him over, Sandor grabbed him by his white shirt. He drew a gun on Sandor, but it was easily knocked aside and Sandor slapped him, nearly taking Hardyng’s head off. He held up his hands in surrender, then punched Sandor in the face. It wasn’t strong enough, since his head had been rebuilt, and hurt Hardyng more than Sandor. “Ow...fucking hells… They really _made_ you when they remade you…” he muttered. “Fine! I know what you’re after...but before you kill me, there’s something you should know about the man who sent you here--”

A shot rang out, and Hardyng’s head exploded in blood and brains. More shots, and Sandor had to duck behind an information booth. He glanced around the booth. The shots were coming from high up. _A sniper? To prevent Hardyng from talking?_ Everyone was running in a panic, and he looked over to the little bird. She was cowering in the opening of a walking tunnel behind a series of newspaper bins, protected by the sturdy metal containers. The gun Sandor had knocked from Hardyng’s hand was inches from her. She looked up to see Sandor watching her. A quick glance at Hardyng’s body in the open space between them, and then up at where the shots were coming from had her reaching for the gun. Sandor waved at her, _No! Don’t!!_ but she shook her head. She aimed the gun in the general direction of the sniper, closed her eyes tight, and opened fire. Sandor didn’t waste her effort of providing cover fire, and ran to Hardyng’s body, grabbing and dragging it to the tunnel she was next to. Sandor quickly ripped off Hardyng’s bulletproof vest and his shirt.

The little bird was still firing, but Sandor knew she would run out of rounds soon. He had lost the pliers back in the building, so he grit his teeth and used his hand to rip open Hardyng’s chest. The wet insides of the man slipped through his fingers as he rummaged around until he found the heart. Behind it, just as Beric had said, was a device, a small, clear tube with wires. As carefully as possible, Sandor tore it from Hardyng’s body, just as the little bird fired the last round. He grabbed her arm as the gun clicked uselessly and pulled her down the tunnel to make their escape.

**********

The little bird was cleaning the blood off of him when the phone Beric had given him rang. Sandor put it on speakerphone.

_“You got the charge pump?”_

“Yes,” the little bird said. “He doesn’t have much time left. Where can we meet you?”

 _“I’ve sent you the location. Just knock on the knocker!”_ he said, laughing for some reason unknown to them before hanging up. The phone beeped as the map coordinates were received.


End file.
